He reached up, undoing my ponytail and running his strong fingers through the strands. “Back in London. We met for ten minutes. My grandmother escorted me. They made us sign something—you used a crayon that you’d been drawing a bright pink dress with.”
My heart stormed with denial. How could that be?
Jethro bared his teeth, his eyes locking onto my lips. “That was the first document they made us sign—the beginning of our entwined fate. However, soon you’ll be signing something else.”
Oh, God. My stomach revolted at giving him any more rights over me.
It wouldn’t happen. The only thing I’d sign when it came to the Hawks was their death certificates.
His thumb traced my bottom lip. “You can’t say no. You promised.”
I shook my head. “When?”
“When you ran. We agreed if you didn’t make it to the boundary, you would sign another document—one just between us that trumps everything else.” The tips of his cool, no longer warm, fingers trailed along my collarbone. He leaned in and placed the slightest of kisses on my cheek. “I’ve been rather busy, so haven’t had time to draw it up, but once I do, that’s the one I’ll treasure. That’s the one that will contain your soul.”
I tore from his grip.
I couldn’t stand it any longer.
I slapped him.
Hard.
Viciously hard and firm and so full of anger. I wanted to smite him into the ground.
He hissed between his teeth as my palm print glowed instantly on his shaven cheek.
I seethed, “You’re forgetting that no matter how many contracts you make me sign, none of them will own my soul. I own that. Me! And I’ll make you watch, before this is over, while I burn your house to the ground and bury your family.”
Jethro turned to a rock.
Grabbing the diamond collar around my neck, I hissed, “And this. I’ll find a way to remove it. I’ll tear every single diamond from the setting and donate it to victims of bastards like you.”
Jethro’s anger dissolved, almost as if he shed it in one swoop. His smile was forced, but the passion in his eyes was fire not frost. “Bastards like me? I don’t think there are other bastards like me.”
Suddenly he lashed out, grabbing the diamond choker and dragging me forward.
My hands flew to cover his, cursing the huge flare of agony down my spine.
His lips hovered over mine, instantly igniting my overwhelming need to be kissed. How many times would he tease me and not deliver? How many times must he jerk me close, whisper his taste across my lips, and renege on following through? “I told you, you can’t get it off.” His finger trailed to the back of the necklace, tugging gently. “There is no possible way to get this off once it’s on. No key. No trick.”
I gasped, stumbling a little as vertigo played on the outskirts of my vision. “There has to be a way to undo it.”
After all, you took it from my mother’s corpse.
Jethro smiled grimly. “Oh yes, it comes undone when it’s no longer fastened tightly around something as impeccable as your neck.” His beautiful face twisted with something hideously evil. “Think of an old-fashioned handcuff, Ms. Weaver.” He forced two fingers down the collar, effectively strangling me. “It has to get tighter and tighter…” He tried to fit a third finger but it wouldn’t work. Dark spots danced in front of my eyes.
My heart bucked and collided.
“It has to revolve on itself to open, only then will the latch snap free and be ready to be fastened again.”
The horror I’d been locking deep inside took that moment to crest. My knees gave out, hopelessly giving into rage and terror. If I failed in my quest to make the Hawks pay, who would wear it next?
Who?
Vaughn’s unborn daughter? The sister Daniel had hinted at in the car but I didn’t know was real or fiction?
Jethro caught me, placing me back on the bed.
My life switched. My path, my destiny no longer belonged to creativity, design, or couture.
It had never been that clear-cut.
My fate—the very reason why I’d been put on this earth—was to stop these men. To end them. Once and for all.
There will be no more wearers of the Weaver Wailer collar. No more victims of such a ludicrous, sadistic debt.
The ice that lived in Jethro’s soul seeped into mine, and this time…it stayed. There was no Kite to help me soar or hopeful naivety of the girl I used to be. I embraced the chill, letting it permeate and consume.
I will make him care.
My stomach churned with the promise.
I will make him love me.
My conviction wasn’t flimsy or half-hearted.
And then I’ll destroy him.
My vow was unbinding and unbreakable, just like my diamond imprisonment.
“Kiss me, Jethro.”
Jethro froze, eyes wide.
He tried to stand tall after leaning over to plant me safely on the bed. But I lashed out, grabbing his shirt and keeping him folded. “Kiss me.”
His eyes flared wider, panic filling their depths. “Let me go.”
“If we’re effectively married with contracts, carefully designed futures, and interlocking pasts, why are we fighting our attraction? Why not give in to it?” Yanking his shirt, I forced him to stumble closer. “We have years together before the end. Years of fucking and taking and pleasure.” Licking my lips, I purred, “Why wait?”
Ripping my fingers from his clothing, he backed away, ferocity and confusion equal bedfellows in his eyes. “Shut up. You’re hurt. You need to rest.”
I laughed, unable to hide the mania in my tone. “You wanted to take me in the greenhouse. I’m not saying no now.” I spread my thighs; apart from the bandage wrapped around my chest, I was naked.
Jethro’s gaze dropped to my exposed core, his jaw twitching.
“Kiss me. Take me. Show me you’re a man by being the first Hawk to claim me.” My stomach rolled with the filth I spoke.
But I’d made a vow; I intended to see it through.
Dropping my head, I let a curtain of black hair obscure one eye. “Let’s draw our battle lines right here, right now. We’ll fight. We’ll hate each other. But it doesn’t mean we have to let family dictate every action we do.”
Fire filled my belly. He wanted me. I knew that much. He wouldn’t have come all over my back if he didn’t. And there was something inside me—some all-knowing part that not everything was as it seemed. Sometimes he was so sure—so resolute and unswerving in the belief of what he said—and other times, it was a lie. A big, fat, obnoxious lie that even he struggled to hide.